


Will Set You Free

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel POV, Crack, Curses, M/M, Season/Series 06, Spells & Enchantments, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar delivers Castiel to Dean for Christmas, and then there's a truth spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will Set You Free

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at [spnkink_meme](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/53803.html?thread=14718251#t14718251) that goes: "Seeing how Castiel pines for Dean, Balthazar decides to help them both by bringing them together. So come Christmas, he ties Castiel to a bed and leaves him there for Dean as a present. However, being a creative bastard, he spices things up with a little spell that forces Castiel to tell only the truth for the remainder of Christmas Eve."

“You’ll thank me for this later,” Balthazar tells him. “You’ll see!”

* * *

The day’s already had a humiliating start, but Castiel is still not prepared for the deep, all-encompassing embarrassment that rises up when Dean opens the motel room door and sees him there.

“What the hell, Cas!” Dean runs up to him, hands immediately on the physical bonds that hold him in place. “What happened? Who did this?”

Castiel has to wait until the cloth in his mouth is removed before he can answer. “Balthazar. This feels like a complicated spell but I don’t think he means any harm. I should be able to...” He stops, frowns, and looks up at Dean’s concerned face. “Damn.”

“Tank empty?” Dean asks wryly.

“It appears so.” Castiel has been fighting against the ropes for a while now, but there’s still no give. Dean reaches back for one of his knives, setting the blade against the ropes. “Where is Sam?”

“Doing stuff, you know, it being Christmas Eve and all,” Dean says wryly. “Heh, you all trussed up like this, it’s almost as if... never mind.”

“That is convenient, I’d rather not have Sam be witness to this humiliation.” Castiel starts with surprise. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You didn’t?” Dean regards him curiously. “You feeling embarrassed right now?”

“Very much,” Castiel blurts out. “I wouldn’t want you to see me like this either. You already think less of me on occasion and I try not to add to that impression.”

“Heh.” Dean grins at him. “No, I don’t think less of you for having moments of weakness, we all get those. But that sounds like you’re under a truth spell, or something like it. Those are fucking annoying, aren’t they?”

“I wouldn’t know, this is my first time being under one,” Castiel replies. “Though yes, I’m quickly learning how they would be annoying.”

“Well,” Dean says, pulling out a knife to cut the rope, “It’s not like you have a lot of Jerry Springer material rattling around your noggin.”

“Oh, I have plenty.” Castiel freezes, just as Dean frowns. Then, because he is compelled by the surprisingly powerful work of his brother, he adds, “Such as I’m working with Crowley.”

“You’re _what_?” Dean pulls back sharply, talking the knife with him. He looks furious. “Working with... When were you gonna tell me? Us?”

“Never.” Castiel will not shrink down under Dean’s glare, he _will not_. “If I could get away with it.”

“Never, _if you could get away with it_?” Dean echoes shrilly. “Why would you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fighting Raphael,” Castiel says promptly. “I didn’t have enough power to make a stand against him, and Crowley has the only viable option. And there’s nothing wrong with me, I merely want to make sure that Raphael doesn’t come into power and, oh, start the Apocalypse again?”

Dean’s pacing now, muttering and cursing under his breath.

“Dean?” Castiel ventures. “Will you untie the rest—”

“No!” Dean shouts. He whirls on Castiel, eyes blazing. “What else you keeping from me, Cas?”

“I got Sam out of the cage.” Castiel winces, but he can’t stop. “I didn’t realize I didn’t do it properly at the time. I didn’t know how to tell you, or him. I was too busy handling Raphael to figure out the problem. Crowley isn’t dead, we only faked it. I think I may have an addiction to souls. I love you.”

“You’re the reason Sam-lite was walking around, I don’t fucking believe – what?”

“I honestly didn’t know,” Castiel says. “It all happened so quickly. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You looked so content with Lisa, I didn’t have the heart to uproot—”

“No, the other bit.” Dean’s back to glowering at him, but there’s something tentative and fragile in his face. “The. The _other_ bit.”

“The endgame are the souls in Purgatory,” Castiel tells him. “But it was Crowley’s idea, really.”

“No, the – you love me?”

Castiel blinks. “Of course, you are dear to me. That’s why Balthazar thought this would be funny, he keeps making fun of how much I pine for you and hoped, I’m guessing, that I would confess it to you. But don’t worry, I don’t expect reciprocation, I was planning to suppress this feeling for the rest of my existence.”

“What?” Dean sputters. “Cas, you don’t just – you can’t – that isn’t... Well, you just sit there and think about what you’ve done!” And with that he stomps out of the room, slams the door behind him, and then lets out a loud, passionate yell of frustration.

Castiel stares at the door, surprised. That actually went far better than he would have expected.


End file.
